His dark eyes sharpen on me. “I wouldn’t cut you out, man. That’s where we’re different. Don’t sign the contract. Do it underground. Fewer rules. No taxes. Whatever tough spot you’re in, I’ll help you out. We’ll make it happen our way. Fuck those guys who want contracts and assurances. That’s not how we roll.”
I inhale slowly and then release the breath. “I can’t do that. Sanctioned is the only way I’m fighting Black. Neither of us are dying in that cage, because that’s not how it should be either.”
Rolo shakes his head at me. “That new woman of yours don’t want to go slumming. That’s what it’s really about, ain’t it? She ain’t the type to go to an underground club and be able to hold her own.”
I don’t like hearing him talk about Scarlett. Not one fucking bit. But what he said is true.
“If you were me, you wouldn’t risk exposing her to shit like that either.”
“I guess times are a-changin’,” Rolo says with another long sigh. “Never thought I’d see the day when I barely recognized this city anymore. New players coming into the game every day, and here I am, just trying to hold on to our measly slice of the pie. You and me had a good thing going, Gabe. Real fucking good. Pretty soon, I’m just gonna be like one of those high school quarterbacks, reliving my glory days from the sidelines because the best ain’t yet to come. It’s already gone and passed me by. Hell of a reality check, man.”
“Shit, Rolo. It’s not like that. You’ve still got plenty of action. Your new fighter you were with the other time I saw you? Sounds like he’s a solid prospect.” I don’t know why I keep the conversation going. Guilt, I guess. Because I hate seeing Rolo look so damned depressed and beaten down.
“He’s all right. He ain’t you, though, because he ain’t got this.” Rolo reaches out to tap his finger against the side of my head. “That brain of yours was always six steps ahead of everyone else. That’s why I pushed so hard for this fight with Black. You can win. The only person who’s ever been able to beat you is yourself, Gabe. That’s the damn truth.”
My chin dips, and I stare at the spatters of sweat dotting the mat beneath our feet. An idea hits me, and I look up at him. “You ever thought about going legit? Giving Uncle Sam his cut of your take?”
Rolo’s head jerks back. “Now, why would I want to give the government a fuckin’ dime? They didn’t work for that shit. Ain’t no one robbing me of what’s rightfully mine.”
“Just think about it, Rolo. Maybe if this fight goes well at Legend, I could start up my own thing—but legit. High-end fight nights. Bigger money. Bigger gate. Do it right. I’d need someone to help make it happen.” I can’t believe what I’m saying, because I rarely speak without thinking things through—or talking them out with Q—but the fucking guilt is crushing me right now.
“You’d do that for me? Bring me in on your action?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.
“Let’s see how this fight goes, and then we’ll sit down and talk about it. How’s that?” I’m dodging his question, but at least I don’t feel like such a piece of shit.
Rolo shifts on his feet and cracks his knuckles, which sport heavy gold rings. “Yeah. You and me will sit down and talk after this is over. I miss you, man.”
I step in, and we give each other a half hug, slapping backs. I’m covered in sweat, but that’s nothing new for Rolo.
When we release each other, I shake his outstretched hand. “Thanks for understanding. I’m really not trying to fuck you over here. I just don’t have a choice. I have to do this.”
“Yeah, Legend. I’m getting that. I’ll see you again soon. You got my number. Don’t be a stranger.”
Rolo leaves the gym, and a sense of relief washes over me as he disappears from sight.
Everything’s going to work out just fine. Those contracts will be on my desk and signed this week. I’m going to take out Moses, beat Bodhi Black, make Scarlett happy, and save the club.
I got this. Somehow.
Twelve
Scarlett
Gabriel and I are both working on our laptops when there’s a knock on the interior door Monday morning.
“Amy’s here. Crap, I lost track of time.”
He stands up. “I’ll get out of your way then. I’ve got an office of my own, after all.”
I’ve been struggling with the idea of him out there in the world where Moses can get to him, while I stay at Curated with security out front.
Hal’s half brother, Pat, also a former boxer, is alternating shifts with him until this entire thing is over. When I asked Gabriel if I could pay their salaries, we had our first official living-together argument. It ended in my bed, with both of us naked, so I’m calling it a win.
We agreed to split the cost of Pat’s time, since Hal won’t take any money, but only because I told Gabriel it wasn’t fair to expect me to sit back and contribute nothing when his money could be better spent elsewhere, like on the club.
“Stay. Take the bedroom. We won’t be long. Maybe a half hour. It’s usually a super-quick rundown of the week and any employee issues.”
He tucks the laptop under his arm and kisses my cheek. “I’ll be on that fancy little couch of yours then. That is, if it can hold my weight.”
I squint at him, not really offended at his quip. “The settee is solid. I promise.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He heads for the bedroom as I let Amy in. Her eyes expand to the size of dinner plates as she looks over my shoulder and watches him shut the door.
“I thought I heard a man’s voice in here. I’m sorry.” She glances back to my face. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You didn’t say anything about changing the time of our meeting, but we can reschedule.”
“It’s fine. No need to change anything. Come sit down.”
Her gaze cuts to the closed bedroom door again. “Does this have something to do with the black SUV out front that hasn’t moved since Sunday?”
“How do you know it hasn’t moved since Sunday?”
“I thought it was suspicious, so I went back and checked the security feeds. What’s going on, Scarlett?”
“I needed to increase security. Ryan and Christine were pushing me to do it when the troll first surfaced, but I didn’t want to overreact. Now . . . I think it’s time.”
Her eyes grow wide again. “This is because of the troll?”
“Not quite. But it’s important.”
“Before I fully freak out, is there some other threat I need to know about? Are you in danger? Because of him?” Amy’s gaze darts to the bedroom door as it opens.
Gabriel comes out with his gym bag over his shoulder. “I’m not trying to step on your toes here, but I’m guessing it would help if I explained what’s going on to Amy.”
“Yes, please,” Amy says, nodding rapidly.
Thankful that he’s going to deliver whatever information we can share, I smile. “That would be great. Let’s all sit down.”